


No Regrets

by Beryll (Rynthjan)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Drug Use, Forced Prostitution, post apocalyptic setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 13:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynthjan/pseuds/Beryll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world has ended. Some lives go on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Regrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_Om](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Lady_Om).



Seeing him hits her like an electric shock.

Immediately the image is overlaid by those in her memories, rising from the long forgotten past like angry wraiths.

How he struts down the hallway, bearing his football team jacket like a coat of arms, with his team mates following behind him in formation. Cutting through the lesser students like sharks, smiling, chatting, casually greeting those in favour.

Hair, blonde as spun sunlight, blue eyes flashing with the certainty that the world belongs to him, white teeth stolen right out of a toothpaste add.

Of course he never sees her. She has perfected the art of disappearing in plain sight. Being noticed means becoming a target. Becoming a target means public humiliation. Pain of the heart is a harsh but effective teacher.

She is the nerd, the freak in the last row, the weird girl who even the weird boys don't talk to.

She hates that, but there is nothing she can do to change it.

When the end comes, she is the one prepared. She knows how to hide, she knows how to survive, she knows all these odd little bits and pieces. She doesn't need anyone and she misses no one.

She has mastered the art of living from day to day without paying attention to the past or the future since she knows both only hold pain.

The one thing she needs to learn is how to hit back and she has always been a quick study.

When she blows the head off the one guy who saw her anyway, she knows what sex must feel like. Exhilarating, a high incomparable. She loves it.

Later, she learns what real sex is like. A cheap whore is easy to find in this new world if you have the cash or the firepower and she now packs both.

She isn’t sure what she prefers. Sex is nice but does it really beat the ultimate power rush of killing? Hard to say. More testing is still required.

Which drops her back into the present and back to him, who is coming down the rickety stairs leading up to the second floor of this decrepit little shack called an inn.

Age and the Fall have treated him kindly. His hair is darker, lacking the gentle kiss of sunlight. His cheeks hollow, his eyes slightly sunken. But he is still handsome. Not a good thing to be these days. 

There are only two reasons to be up there. Either you are buying or you are selling. The way he flinches away from the gaunt old man with the dirty beard and the shotgun slung over his shoulder, following him down the stairs, tells her he isn’t just a looker but a hooker as well.

How far the mighty have fallen.

She smirks.

“Like my new boy?” Slathen asks.

She has completely forgotten he is there. He owns this place. Of course they would cut each other’s throat without second thoughts if the price is right but that is a given. Such petty details don’t keep them from being pals.

“Fresh meat, hardly used yet. For you I’ll make a special price.” Slathen tempts.

Wouldn’t that be a hoot? She can so see him kneeling in front of her, his eyes dull and accepting. She would make him lick her and she would use his cock.

Then she would walk out without another glance.

She doubts he would recognize her. After all, he has never seen her.

But she could tell him. Could gloat over the fact that she is free and he is a whore. She could spit in his face.

“Walked in here without a dime on him.” Slathen mirrors her own smirk. “Was reluctant to work, but after a few shots of Uncle Slathen's special happy punch and he now is tame as a lamb.”

Drugged and fucked.

She watches how he makes his way to the bar. How he leans against it, exhausted.

Or she could buy him off Slathen. Wouldn’t be cheap, but she can afford it. She would rescue him from this dump. She would wean him off the drugs, teach him how to survive. He would be grateful. He would love her. He would have to see her then. Some day she would tell him how she knows him from before. And they would laugh about it.

“So?” Slathen asks.

She looks over at him. He is ugly as fuck. He probably thinks the same about her.

She smiles.

“Naw, I’ll just have the usual.” She says, leans over and kisses him.


End file.
